


Moonlighting

by inkforhumanhands



Series: Daredevil Ficlets [17]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Attempted Sexual Assault, BAMF Karen Page, F/M, Ficlet, First Meetings, Gen, Happy Ending, Misogyny, Mostly Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkforhumanhands/pseuds/inkforhumanhands
Summary: Matt is scouting out a bar for information when he hears a drunk creeping on a woman (Karen). He quickly decides to intervene, only to find that maybe she's not as helpless as his initial estimation made her out to be.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Karen Page, Matt Murdock/Karen Page
Series: Daredevil Ficlets [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880257
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Moonlighting

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for Writer's Month 2020 prompt "meet cute" but I've reworked it some because I wasn't happy with how strictly it followed the "guy saves woman" trope. still not perfect, but eh

Ice cubes swirled in liquid and clinked against the sides of glasses; glasses clunked down on wooden tables. The air buzzed with conversations each shouted to be heard above the other chatter. Matt nursed a beer in the corner alone trying to sift through it all. He was hoping to catch word about a certain mobster who’d recently gone underground.

What he heard instead was a woman draw in a shaky breath before repurposing it into a strong rebuff. “I already said I’m not interested.” Matt only needed to hone in on her rapidly beating heart to hazard a guess that the drunk next to her might not be about to go quietly.

He was right. “Listen here, you little bitch. I wasn’t asking.”

The woman emitted a small yelp that reached his ears easily but that the noise of the bar must have drowned out for its other patrons. Matt’s senses gave him a rough idea that the man had grabbed her, probably on the wrist, although he couldn’t pinpoint where without getting closer.

Setting down his beer on the nearest table to free up his hands should he find a use for them, he began to thread his way through the crowd. As he approached the altercation, the picture his radar painted for him got sharper, and the jostle of some objects in a bag signaled for him that the woman’s free hand was being put to work looking for some kind of a distraction—a weapon, maybe. Matt abandoned all pretense of moving at a normal pace, hoping to head things off before they could escalate.

Jangly keys resettled into the bottom of the woman’s purse as she withdrew whatever it was she had grabbed. She kept it close to her waist, perhaps not wanting to give herself away yet. A bitter, burning taste landed on Matt’s tongue, and he recognized it from his nights on patrol. She must be gripping the canister of pepper spray so hard that a bit of it had leaked prematurely from the valve. While Matt normally had no objection to its finding its way into the faces of offenders such as this guy, even he had to admit that it probably wasn’t the most suited for a crowded, indoor space such as this. Maybe it was acknowledgement of that fact that stilled her hand, because the closer he got the better he could tell that the energy she radiated wasn’t fear, but anger.

Matt was one table away now, and her voice came out confident and cold. “Look, I have a boyfriend and he’s—”

“He’s right here. Please take your hand off my girlfriend.” Matt silently thanked God for the easy in that she’d given him. He wasn’t confident that had she said anything else he would have managed a plausible entrance for a blind guy. He would rather resolve this without blowing his cover and leaving the bar empty-handed. Sliding in next to her and opposite her antagonizer, Matt squeezed the woman’s shoulder, hoping it would reassure her rather than come off as invasive. He also hoped her harasser would interpret it as a show of territoriality, often the only thing that would get through to this particular brand of loser.

“Jason! What took you so long?” His “girlfriend” slipped seamlessly into character, for which Matt, now Jason, was relieved.

His hopes that his appearance would be enough to discourage the asshole were dashed, however, when the guy laughed dismissively. “This _blind_ guy is your boyfriend? You’ve gotta be kidding me. A princess like you needs a real man,” he snarled.

He moved to grab at her again, but Matt inserted himself between them and threw a quick jab at his face before he could get anywhere. His hands flew up to his nose, and he howled in surprised pain. As he stumbled backwards, the distance between him and Matt widened just enough to allow a determined body to edge in again and slam an elbow with all her weight behind it straight into his solar plexus. This new assault cut short the man’s howl and transformed it into a gruff choke. Matt grabbed the man by the ear and leaned in close while his partner hung back. He made it clear that he always had the option to hit him again if he didn’t leave immediately.

Once the asshole had gone, Matt turned his attention back to his unexpected helper. He started to remark on her elbow technique when she interrupted him. “That’s some punch you’ve got there. I mean, thank you. I’m Karen.”

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome, Karen. And likewise. That elbow was no joke,” he said. A miniscule amount of heat that Matt interpreted to be a blush emanated from Karen’s face at his statement. He brought a hand up to the back of his head. “I’m Matt.”

“This is going to sound a little insane,” Karen said, softening, “but I’m so glad your name isn’t really Jason. I actually hate that name.”

Matt laughed. “What Jason wronged you?” he asked, grateful for the chance to move forward into some normal conversation.

“I’ll tell you about him if you let me buy you a beer as thanks.”

“Alright, you’re on.” That mobster could wait until another night.


End file.
